Exploration
by Val-Creative
Summary: Each scar on their bodies ends up holding a meaning. /Robin!StephxBatman!Cass. AU!Future-verse. Hints of established relationship. Oneshot.


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Each scar on their bodies ends up holding a meaning — whether it was a _failure_ to act accordingly when it counted, or a _triumph _revealing the tangible manifestation of what resulted in battle.

Stephanie's hand palms over a globe of flesh, over Cassandra's shoulder, and her fingertips outline a braid-looking scar that runs down in the direction between Cassandra's shoulder blades. The Kevlar bodysuit falls open with several, practiced, hurried motions — not with her hands, absolutely not; Stephanie is still very wary about playing with the security protocols of the Bat-utility belt when she almost blinded herself messing with a cylinder full of highly concentrated mace — and it drops onto the apartment's training mat with a softened _clang!_.

Underneath the fearsome persona of Gotham City is a one young woman — spry, determined, and had little option but to take on the mantle when others were not willing… or when they _failed_.

"Where did you get this one?" Stephanie murmurs, dipping her head downwards to trace her lips to the same scar. Salty, moist sweat on her lips.

Cassandra doesn't answer immediately. Her partner doesn't expect her to.

"Joker."

Stephanie makes an understanding noise in the back of her throat, gathering strands of jet black into her hands, tucking and smoothing them over Cassandra's opposite shoulder.

With the same care, she begins to unroll the violet-colored, protective binding tape from Cassandra's chest.

The world knew what to expect with the other Batmen; _this one_, well, her female stature did not make her less formidable.

Stephanie focuses that gentle attention on the tape and undergarments, and she leaves the stark naked girl kneeling in silence to find more casual clothing. Cassandra declines everything offered to her but the loose-fitting gym shorts, slipping them on with more silence growing between them as Stephanie clicks her bright yellow Robin cape apart from her bulletproof, red singlet collar and kneels as well.

Batman didn't always need a Robin.

But he really did.

As she _does_ now.

To keep herself out of the shadows of crime and _death _long enough, to be that colorful sweep of _life_, to remind Batman that there were still people willing to enforce the good with so much bad.

It was, and would always be, an important aspect to the role.

Too wired from patrol (feeling a little _horny_ to add on) and unable to take the stillness and her own melodramatic thoughts much longer, Stephanie removes the top of her uniform and leans in, the heated surface of her breasts pushing into Cassandra's back. A small intake of breath from her companion and Stephanie bites back a gleeful smile, bites on her lower lip before leaning more fully — just so Cassandra can feel the warmth and length of her body, just so Cassandra could feel how _open_ and _trusting_ her partner felt around her through the skills of her body language. She _wanted_ her to read _this_.

Her fingers — riddled with thinner, paler scratches — lift into the air, settling over the flexing space of Cassandra's ribcage underneath her left breast. Another noise, _mewling_. One of her fingers drift up, rubbing measurably slow over a flushed nipple and tweaking it mischievously. Cassandra's body — so lithe and muscular, so entirely somatic — jolts in place, secure in Stephanie's arms. "What are you…?"

"Are you uncomfortable?" she asks, keeping the hold.

A pair of dark eyes, brownish black in the overhead light, glances purposefully at her. Cassandra turns her head to the side.

Her hand grasps into sweat damp, wheat-blonde hair. "Not really. Your hands are cold."

"_Ssnnkk_…"

Stephanie lowers her face to snicker loudly and kisses smiling into the other girl's neck before reaching underneath her. "They'll warm eventually," she tells her.

An index and middle finger touches against the heliotrope, nylon fabric of Cassandra's gym shorts and strokes mindfully between her legs. Cassandra's body — her skilled, _perfect _body — rocks with Stephanie's bare fingers, urging until they yank away the only clothed barrier. They renew stroking on her clitoris. Cassandra's hum of pleasure travels right to the spot on her neck where her partner insists on staying (and marking with vigor). She doesn't mind when Cassandra's hand nesting in her hair _pulls _harshly.

A little pain for sexual gratification. Sounds like a fair trade to her.

Stephanie's dry lips skim, nipping over an unpierced, soft earlobe as she murmurs fondly, "_Batman_…"

Cassandra's hips jerk forward as the fingering, rhythmic pressure increases on her sex.

The other girl replies, barely louder than a murmur, "_Robin_…" moaning, the dull orgasm leaving her to throb wetly against Stephanie's fingers. She reaches again for a firm grasp on Stephanie's torso scattered with fading, multi-colored bruises. The hand in blonde tresses shifts to the black siding of the Robin mask and digs over it with dull fingernails. Stephanie takes the signal and removes her mask, blinking away the glaring light of the apartment. She groans, touching herself through her own spandex — it's not enough — and pressing her forehead weakly to the nape of neck in front of her.

"_Tell me you need me_…"

It's the kind of heat-of-the-moment plea that embarrasses her. It makes her sound like she was an unhealthy, co-dependent stereotype of some helpless girl living with her douchebag boyfriend. She knew people like that from high school. _Normal_ people. People who didn't know sixteen effective ways to get out of a chokehold. Or to sew their own head wound closed.

But that knot of frustration and anxiety (tight; weighed) forms inside her stomach anyway when the only sounds to hear are Cassandra's breathing.

Or did Robin need Batman _more_?

Cassandra twists around to face her; her eyes focus solely on her, on her best friend half-naked and raggedly breathing as she strokes herself, and she leans in to press greedy lips to a pale cheek.

"_I've always needed you_," a whisper of assurance against Stephanie's pinkening cheek— Cassandra's lips mold over hers. "_My good girl_."

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><p><em>DCU Femslash Meme prompt:<em>

_"Any/Any, Batman/Robin identity porn_

_Roleplaying as Batman and Robin? Someone being Batman for Gotham, and someone else taking advantage and pretending to be Robin to come onto them? Genderswap AU (of the "always" kind) if that's allowed? I just want Batman/Robin femslash. There._

_what do you mean i'm defeating the purpose of an anon meme."_


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